Chapter 371
Heat flooded my body as my face turned bright red. What a situation to explain to Victor!
And what about Justin? He looked angry enough to call off the wedding.
The DJ stopped the music as Victor and Justin made their way across the room and stopped between Amy and me and the strippers.
“I don't know why they’re here,” I insisted. “They just walked in.”
“This is a bachelorette party,” Victor’s voice was cold. “But I didn’t expect this from you, Daisy.”
“Or you, Amy,” Justin kept his eyes on the floor, seemingly too upset to look at the two men wearing g-strings and work boots.
“I …I didn’t do anything wrong, Justin,” Amy declared. “You must believe me.”
“Daisy threw this party for Amy,” Victor told Justin. “Don’t blame Amy.”
“But I didn’t hire male strippers,” I insisted. “I wouldn’t know where to find them.”
“We were hired through our website,” one stripper said. “Our fee was paid by credit card, and there are no refunds.”
He and the dark-haired man began putting their Velcro closure clothes back on.
“I didn’t hire them,” I repeated.
But Victor was staring at the floor, too, and wouldn’t look at me.
I gulped down my glass of champagne. It made warmth flood my body and intensified my anger for being blamed for something I didn’t do.
“I should have kicked them out right away,” I said, feeling myself swaying a little. “But I repeat: I did not hire any strippers, and Amy and I did nothing wrong.”
I turned to my friend. “I’m sorry your bachelorette party turned into a disaster. But I didn’t hire them.”
Amy nodded. “I believe you.”
“If only my fiancé did,” I said and started walking out of the room.
“Daisy, wait,” Victor called. “Don’t go.”
“Why not,” I said. “I’m not going to stand here and be blamed for something I didn’t do.”
“I know you didn’t hire them,” Victor said. He took a wad of cash from his pocket and split it between the two strippers. “For your trouble,” he told them.
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
Justin burst into laughter and hugged Amy.
“What’s so funny?” Amy demanded.
Victor began to laugh too. “I hired them. It was a joke we played on you two.”
“It wasn’t funny,” I said and poured myself more champagne. Maybe it would take the edge off my anger at Victor. “That was a mean thing to do to us.” I downed half the glass and felt the room spin a little.
Our friends who had been watching hurried toward the door.
Amy began to laugh. “It is a little funny, Daisy. You should have seen your face when Victor and Justin walked into the room.”
I downed the last of the sparkling liquid in my glass and staggered to the table to put down the glass.
“Daisy, how much did you drink?” Victor asked.
“Just a couple of glasses of chram-pain,” I slurred. Why was everything moving?
She had more than she thinks,” Amy admitted. “I didn’t want any, so I was pouring mine into Daisy’s glass.”
“She’s drunk,” Justin chuckled.
“I am not drunk,” I argued while swaying on my feet. “I never get drunk.” Why was the room starting to spin?
Victor caught me in his arms before I fell. “You’re drunk, sweetheart. I’ll carry you to bed.”
“What about the party?” I giggled.
“The party’s over,” Victor said. “I’m taking you to bed.”
“Woo-hoo!” I exclaimed. “That sounds like a grrrreat idea.” I began kissing his neck.
“Call you tomorrow,” Amy called through her laughter as Victor carried me from the ballroom.
“Guess what I want to do?” I singsonged while being carried down the long hallway.
“Get a good night’s sleep,” Victor guessed.
“Nope,” I said as I chewed on his ear lobe. “I’m going to rock your world.”
He laughed. “That sounds interesting.”
His laughter was the last thing I heard before I passed out in his arms.
A week later, I was helping Amy get ready for her wedding in the dressing room of the little chapel she rented. She looked beautiful in her gown and her hair in loose, flowing curls.
“Thanks for not being mad at me for pouring my champagne into your glass at the party,” Amy said. “I should have told you I don’t like it.”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “I felt wretched the next morning, but I was over it after breakfast and a nap. What will you toast with at your reception if you don’t like champagne?”
“Dad got sparkling fruit juice,” she replied. “And all my favorite foods are on the buffet.”
I helped Amy straighten her veil over her face. “You’re ready for your groom.”
“I love him,” Amy said.
“I know you do, sweetie,” I said. “Now, let’s get you out there to marry him.”
Looking at the beautiful bride, I felt a twinge of envy, but I brushed it away. This was Amy’s day.
We went to the doorway of the ceremony room, and I signaled the priestess that we were ready. She asked everyone to be silent and called for the bride.
I walked ahead of Amy, who was being escorted down the aisle by Elliot Gray. He looked dignified in a black suit, but I saw him wipe his eyes when Amy took his arm.
Walking up the aisle, I spotted Victor standing beside a smiling Justin. He was the best man and looked incredible in his tux.
At the altar, I stood to the left of the priestess. Amy and Elliot arrived seconds later. He tearfully hugged the girl who had been his daughter since she was a few days old and took his seat in the front row.
Justin moved closer and took Amy’s hand, and they moved in front of the altar.
The priestess swung an incense holder around the couple. The pleasant scent surrounded them and dispersed throughout the chapel.
Then the priestess stood before the happy couple and had them recite their vows.
Justin repeated the words that had been used to unite couples for centuries. His voice was clear and unwavering, showing his love for his mate.
Then it was Amy’s turn. “Justin, I take you for my mate, forever and always, through good times and bad.”
Her eyes sparkled with happy tears. “We are one, always working for the good of our union, and I will never forsake the love I have for you in my heart and soul.”
Then, the priestess had them exchange rings she blessed and asked the Goddess to bless and strengthen their union. And they were married.
Everyone cheered when the couple kissed before they turned around and beamed at them.
It was a simple yet beautiful ceremony.
I looked at Victor, who took my hand before we followed Amy and Justin down the aisle.
“Our turn will come,” he whispered.
I squeezed his hand and wiped a tear from my eye before we joined the newly married couple at the chapel door. It was time to move on to the reception.
Gray’s restaurant was closed to the public and was decorated especially for the wedding in green and gold. It looked magical.
Green tablecloths covered each table. The marigold and mini-fern centerpieces were each on each table, and golden rose-shaped candles were everywhere. Their flames sparkled off the crystal glasses and polished silverware.
Victor and I joined Amy and Victor at the bridal party’s table. We enjoyed a sumptuous buffet of steak, oysters, shrimp cocktail, bacon-wrapped scallops, chicken picante, Parmesan roasted potatoes, and veggies and dip.
A champagne fountain flowed near the bar, and a delicious-looking five-tier wedding cake was near the kitchen door.
It was amazing how many important events of my life happened in this restaurant. It changed and grew the same as me, yet I could still see the shy, awkward girl waiting on tables and dreaming of the day she would be free of her adoptive family.
After Amy and Justin cut the cake, I saw Amy excuse herself and hurry toward the bathrooms. She looked pale, so I followed.
I heard her before I opened the ladies’ room door. She was on her knees in the first toilet stall, vomiting hard and gasping for air.
“Amy, why didn’t you tell me you don’t feel well?” I asked. “I’ll get you a cool, wet towel. It might help.”
I moistened a paper towel, took it to her, and wiped her sweaty brow.
“Did you eat too much?” I asked. “I know how much you love your dad’s oysters on the half-shell.”
A new burst of vomit spewed from Amy’s mouth. “Don’t … mention …oysters,” she gasped between dry heaves.
“Amy, I know it’s your wedding, but you’re really sick.” I rubbed her back. “You need a doctor. I’m calling 911.”
